The Children's Hour
by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow 
 

Between the dark and the daylight,

          When the night is beginning to lower,

Comes a pause in the day's occupations,

          That is known as the Children's Hour.

I hear in the chamber above me

          The patter of little feet,

The sound of a door that is opened,

          And voices soft and sweet.

From my study I see in the lamplight,

          Descending the broad hall stair,

Grave Alice, and laughing Allegra,

          And Edith with golden hair.

A whisper, and then a silence:

          Yet I know by their merry eyes

They are plotting and planning together

          To take me by surprise.

A sudden rush from the stairway,

          A sudden raid from the hall!

By three doors left unguarded

          They enter my castle wall!

They climb up into my turret

          O'er the arms and back of my chair;

If I try to escape, they surround me;

          They seem to be everywhere.

They almost devour me with kisses,

          Their arms about me entwine,

Till I think of the Bishop of Bingen

          In his Mouse-Tower on the Rhine!

Do you think, O blue-eyed banditti,

          Because you have scaled the wall,

Such an old mustache as I am

          Is not a match for you all!

I have you fast in my fortress,

          And will not let you depart,

But put you down into the dungeon

          In the round-tower of my heart.

And there will I keep you forever,

          Yes, forever and a day,

Till the walls shall crumble to ruin,

          And moulder in dust away!